Turning to the Future
by CrimsonNight17
Summary: Ever wonder what Kid Blink's life was like before he joined up with the newsies?
1. Chapter 1

Turning to the Future  
New York, 1895  
  
Chapter 1  
James paced back and forth in a nervous, almost frantic manner. Anyone who happened to glance through the window of the ratty, 2-room apartment would wonder what the boy had to be so afraid of in his own home. James snorted. Home. Yeah right. He'd be better off sleeping in the alleys, living off the garbage in the streets. He sighed heavily and sat down on the floor, running a hand through his blond hair. When had things gotten this bad? How long ago had he been living happily - well, mostly - with both of his parents? Was it only recently that his mother had sick and passed on, or was it longer ago than he remembered? James hardly noticed time anymore. He knew when it was day and when it was night, but that was the extent of it. The hours, days, months, they all blended together. James wasn't even sure what year it was. After the death of his mother he had lost what control he still held over his life. His father began drinking, a little at first, then a little more, building into alcoholism with almost frightening speed. He would go to his job at the factory during the day, and spend his evenings at various bars, blowing his meager pay on booze. Almost every night he would come home drunk out of his mind. Some nights he'd barely make it through the door before passing out. It was the other nights that James had grown to fear. His father was prone to violence after drinking, and James was more often than not the receiver of the old man's temper. It seemed to James like he always did something wrong, screwed something up, and he paid dearly for it. He shuddered, remembering what had happened the week before. He touched the patch over his left eye and felt his good eye prickle. He roughly wiped the tears away with his sleeve. He would not cry.   
Suddenly the clock chimed. James snapped his head up, immediately on edge. He relaxed slightly, realizing it was nothing. He looked around the room absently catching his reflection in the cracked mirror that still hung on the wall. He looked like shit. 'Well, whose fault is that,' he thought, grimacing. This had been going on for far too long. James had dropped out of school shortly after the beatings had become evident and people had begun to ask questions. Part of the reason was that he was ashamed to admit what was going on in his house. Who wouldn't be, he asked himself constantly. He had stopped talking to his friends to avoid their questioning and the questioning looks in their eyes. He didn't want to open up to them, and he didn't want to get them involved. So he kept his mouth shut, living his days in boredom and his nights in fear.  
"Why?" he cried out suddenly, barely aware of the fact that he had spoken out loud. "Why the hell am I still here? I'm 15 and I'm still stuck in this hell! I know I have to leave, and I'm not gonna put it off anymore!" He was shouting now but he didn't care. Tonight was it - he was leaving. No more planning and wishing, no more putting it off. James grabbed an old cloth bag and quickly started grabbing his few belongings, stuffing them in. Suddenly the door banged open.  
James froze, dropping the bag. His father stood in the doorway. James prayed that he would pass out, that he would just fall over right then and there. Luck did not seem to be with him that night.   
"Where the hell are ya, boy?" the old man bellowed, staggering into the room and slamming the door behind him. Slowly, James stood up.  
"Over here," he said softly. His father turned towards him.  
"What the hell is wrong with ya?" he shouted. "This place is a goddamned mess! Why the hell didn't ya clean it, 'cause I know I told ya to!"  
"I did clean it," James insisted, keeping his voice low. His father angrily gestured to a table littered with beer bottles.  
"What the hell do ya call this then?" He heaved one of the bottles in James's direction. It hit the wall, above him, and splintered, raining tiny shards of glass over him. Another bottle hit the wall next to him. The third caught him in the stomach. He slid down to the floor, clutching his midsection.  
"Where the hell did ya go boy?" his father shouted, slurring his words. James only moaned softly. His father half-walked, half-staggered over to him and grabbed James by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to his feet.  
"Are ya fuckin' stupid?" he screamed, slamming his son into the wall. "When I talk, you answer! Got that?" James nodded, and his father slammed him into the wall again.  
"Answer me!!"  
"Yes sir," James answered weakly. His father let go of him with one hand and drew back his fist, punching James in the face, and then kneeing him in the stomach. James doubled over in pain, clutching his abdomen again. He rolled onto his side and his father kicked out a foot, missing James and hitting the wall. He swore out loud and glared at James.  
"You're gonna pay for that!" he growled at his son, undoing his belt. He lashed out with it, catching James in the shoulder. James cried out as it made contact with his already bruised body. Again, his father lashed out, and again after that, unceasing, unmerciful, until James passed out, welcoming the quiet darkness.  



	2. Chapter 2

*Author's Note: Thanks to JediGurrl for being the first to review the story

*Author's Note: Thanks to JediGurrl for being the first to review the story!

James awoke slowly, consciousness tugging him back from his comfortable oblivion.He sat up stiffly, grimacing.'Where is he,' James thought, immediately feeling the familiar panic rushing through him.Things finally seemed to be going right for once, because the old man had passed out.James stood slowly, leaning against the wall for support.He grabbed the cloth bag he had been filling and quietly made his way past his father's still form.He quickly made his way into the other room and sat down to evaluate the damage.Mostly bruises, he noted.Those'll heal.He gingerly pushed against his ribs.He knew what a broken rib felt like, but fortunately everything seemed to still be intact (for the most part).He stood again, wincing.He had to leave now.If there was any doubt of that before, it was gone now.He hurriedly began searching the tiny bedroom for any spare change.He came up with 84 cents – not a whole lot, but he'd make do.He threw the coins in the bag and winced, putting a hand to his back.When he drew it back it was covered in blood.

"Damn," James whispered, feeling the back of his shirt again.Sure enough, it was in tatters, or parts of it anyway. That wouldn't do any good.He found an old shirt of his father's, one that somewhat clean and didn't reek too badly of alcohol.He hurriedly changed into it.The new shirt was a couple sizes too big, but he was satisfied just the same.He grabbed a vest and hurriedly buttoned it up over his shirt, then grabbed a cap and threw it over his blond hair.He grabbed a towel off the floor, spit in it, and tried to wipe some of the dried blood off his face.He regarded his reflection in the grimy mirror for a moment.Presentable.He looked almost normal, except for the eyepatch.Suddenly, a small crash was heard in the other room.

"Shit," he muttered, grabbing the bag.He looked around the room frantically before remembering that the window in the bedroom had the fire escape right outside.Thankful for that, James quickly made his way over.He had one leg out the window when he felt a sharp tug on the bag.He cried out as he was pulled back, aggravating the wounds on his back.He let go of the bag and scrambled out the window.His father lashed his arm out, knocking the cap off James's head.James turned around and slammed the window shut, catching his father's fingers.He hard the old man's roar and hurriedly made his way down the fire escape.He skipped the last set of stairs, opting to jump instead.He landed on his hands and knees but quickly got up.He took off running down the alley, ignoring the searing pain coming from his ribs.He heard his father yelling after him, but he never looked back.He just kept running into the night – away from the apartment, away from his father, away from his past.


	3. Chapter 3




	4. Chapter 4

1 Chapter 4  
  
A/N: The beginning of this chapter is synonomous w/what happened in Chapter 3. Or in plain English, it's the same events through a different point of view. Just wanted to clear up any confusion, I had people swearing at me for not writing it clearly enough.  
  
Flare growled to herself. Saying today was a slow day would be an understatement. She had only gotten rid of six of her fifty papers in the two hours she had been selling, despite the headline she & Mush had come up with. Annoyed, she held up a paper.  
  
"Nude corpse found in burnt-out tenement!" she called out, waving the paper around like a madman.  
  
"Cut dat out, Flare," Mush said, hitting her in the shoulder & laughing.  
  
"Well no one's even lookin' at us," she muttered. "Might as well try to grab their attention somehow." Shaking her head, she took off her cap & wiped her forehead.  
  
"Gawd, it's hot," she complained. "Why is it so damned hot?"  
  
"Maybe 'cause it's July," Mush teased, shoving her a little. "Hey, maybe we should split up. We could probably sell more, faster." Flare nodded, replacing her cap.  
  
"Dat ain't a bad idea," she agreed. "Even fer you." Mush pretended to be hurt & she grinned. "We'll meet here when we're done."  
  
" 'Kay," Mush agreed. He hesitated, then gave her a quick kiss on the lips & walked away. Flare watched him for a moment, a small smile playing at her lips, then groaned. Back to work. She turned, seeking out her next victim. Raising the paper above her head, she called her headline again. No one responded.  
  
"Fer cryin' out loud," she muttered, than gathered her strength & shouted one last time.  
  
"Extra! Extra! Nude corpse found in tenement!" she hollered. 'Finally,' she though as a small group crowded around her, suddenly eager to get their hands on a copy. 'Men'll buy anything with the woid 'nude' in it,' she thought, laughing to herself. She thanked them for the money & moved away quickly. She didn't want to be around when they found out their "nude corpse" was just the dead body of a cat.  
  
A movement in an alley caught her attention. She looked over & saw two guys standing in there over a third form. Delanceys, her mind supplied. They seemed to be beating on some poor street kid. 'Just walk away,' she told herself. 'Don't pay any attention.' Against her better judgement, she looked over again.  
  
"Damned conscience," she muttered, tucking her papers into her makeshift belt. Shaking her head, she quickly made her way over to the alley. None of them noticed her approach, giving her an advantage. She snuck up behind Oscar & tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, her fist connected with his jaw. She caught him again in the eye. Oscar stumbled back a little & she gave him a hard shove into the brick wall behind him. Morris turned around to see what had happened & was greeted by Flare's knee to his stomach. She kneed him again & he fell to the ground. Oscar was up again & prepared to rush her, but she elbowed him in the chest - hard. Both guys got up & into a fighting stance. Flare made a move as if to run towards them & they took off running down the alley.  
  
"Assholes," Flare muttered. She brushed her hands off on her pants. A job well-done. She heard a groan & turned around to see the kid still on the ground. Checking to make sure she still had the bulk of her papers, she made his way over to him & held out her hand.  
  
"You okay?" she asked, w/genuine concern. James brushed her hand aside & pushed himself off the ground.  
  
"Fine," he replied shortly. "Jist fine. An' even if I wasn't, I wouldn't need help from some goil." His pride had been stung; he didn't want to admit that he had needed help defending himself from a couple of street jerks-especially when it was apparent that those jerks weren't particularly tough.  
  
Flare glared at him, & suddenly, without warning, belted him in the stomach. James fell over again, coughing.  
  
"What in the hell was dat for?" he sputtered. Flare's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Trust me kid," she growled. "Dis is one goil ya don't wanna cross." She started to walk away, but turned around to look at him struggling to get back up. 'Damned conscience,' she thought again, going back over & offering her hand a second time. James just looked at her & she rolled her eyes.  
  
"Ya gonna stare at it or are ya gonna get up?"  
  
James stared at her outstretched hand a moment longer before accepting it. flare helped pull him to his feet & he winced slightly at the pain in his ribs.  
  
"Sorry 'bout dat punch," Flare said, "but you deserved it. With that attitude, ya won't last 10 minutes out heah."  
  
"It's okay," James replied. "It wasn't dat hard anyway." Again, Flare narrowed her eyes, but then she grinned ever-so-slightly. James was a little surprised by that; he had expected to make her mad again.  
  
"Ya got a name, kid?" she inquired. James opened his mouth to reply but shut it again. He felt reluctant to give his real name, foolish as it seemed. Flare seemed to sense this because she just nodded.  
  
"Well, I'm Flare," she introduced herself with a quick mock-bow. James grinned at her.  
  
"Interestin' name," he said. Flare shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's just a nickname," she explained, " 'cuz of my temper." She rolled her eyes a little. "My real name's Isabelle. But don't call me dat or I'll soak ya." She looked at the patch over his eye.  
  
"What's dat for?" she asked, reaching for it. James quickly pushed her hand away.  
  
"Oh, it's real," she said softly. Before James could ask what she meant by that, she was talking again. "Well, dat's okay, ya can use it as a handicap."  
  
"A handicap?" James echoed. "What's dat supposed ta be?"  
  
"Ya know, an injury or somethin' like dat, ta make people feel bad fer ya."  
  
"Why do I want people ta feel bad fer me?"  
  
"Pity," Flare explained. "Pity sells papes. People tend ta be more- what's the woid?-" she stopped to think for a second, "-generous. And-"  
  
"Wait a minute," James interrupted. "Who said I was gonna sell?"  
  
"How much money ya got?" Flare challenged.  
  
"None," James admitted.  
  
"An' how do ya plan on makin' any?"  
  
James shifted his weight, saying nothing.  
  
"Ya see, sellin's yer only option." She grinned. "I'll show ya the ropes, it ain't that hard." She took several papers out of the stack hanging from her belt. James hesitated before taking them from her.  
  
"C'mon, kid," she said, motioning for James to follow her. "We got papes ta sell." They walked to an open spot.  
  
"Okay, this is pretty easy," Flare explained to James. "Mostly, ya just pick out an interestin' headline, yell it out, an' wait fer people ta buy a pape. Watch." She cleared her throat & held up a paper. "Nude corpse found in tenement remains!" Once again, several people clustered around her, eager to read the story. James quickly scanned down the front page. Not much in the news. Sighing, he finally raised up a paper.  
  
"Mayor's house fumigated, cockroach problem solved!" he called out. No one even blinked an eye. He heard Flare chuckle behind him & turned to glare at her.  
  
"Dat's yer second lesson." She grinned. "Improvin' the headlines. Where's that story, foist page?" James nodded. Flare located the story & held the paper up again.  
  
"Massacre at mayor's house, hundreds killed!" Immediately, Flarewas surrounded by customers again. James nodded, starting to catch on, & called out the same headline. He, too, soon had people flocking over to buy a paper.  
  
"Penny a pape!" Flare yelled. "Massacre at mayor's house! Extra! Extra!" James noted the price to himself & sold one to a middle-aged man who seemed to be in a rush.  
  
"Young man, why do you have to wear that patch?" an elderly lady asked James. He swallowed hard. Flare noticed this & trotted over.  
  
"Factory accident, ma'am," she answered for him. "He's my brother. He was fired from his old job an' now sellin's all we got." She allowed her eyes to tear up as she said this, & her lip trembled a little. 'She's good,' James thought.  
  
"Poor dears!" the old lady exclaimed. She dropped a dime into James's hand & gave one to Flare too. James nodded, smiling, & Flare tipped her cap.  
  
"Much obliged, ma'am," she said. The woman smiled in return & walked away.  
  
"Ain't dat lyin'?" James asked, turning to face Flare. She smiled a little.  
  
"You tell me," she replied, turning away.  
  
"What's dat supposed ta mean?"  
  
"Well, ya haven't told me anythin' 'bout who ya are or where ya came from." She turned to face him again. "I don't even know yer name."  
  
"Why should I tell ya anything?" James shot back defensively. "You've known me fer about 10 minutes!"  
  
"I ain't askin' fer yer life story, kid," she replied. "Dat ain't my business." She turned away & began shouting her headline again. James shook his head & turned to do the same. 'She different, dat's fer sure,' he thought.  
  
A/N: Well, I'm usually not one to go begging for attention, but I just wanted to know, what did you guys think of Flare as a character? Personally, I kinda like her, but I want your opinions here. Please review.or Email me.or send me an IM (CrimsonNight17) & tell me what you thought! 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey, I'm almost keeping up w/the updates now! I've got several friends who volunteered to read this over for me, so if you happen to be one of them.you better write something nice or I shall kick your ass. Have a nice day. (Kidding of course, I love you all.mostly)  
  
1 Chapter 5  
  
Flare & James sold papers all morning, with Flare giving James some pointers along the way. As the morning progressed, James found himself getting quite good. Flare was right about the patch, though, that was for sure. All morning, people asked him about it, & gave him extra money for his papers. He stuck to Flare's factory story, pointing her out as his sister. Because of this, Flare would also earn the occasional nickel or dime. She grinned to herself.  
  
"Good thing I picked ya up," she commented to him. "I'm makin' enough ta take the next week off!" James just smiled a little in return. Finally, they had sold all their papers.  
  
"Good sellin', kid," Flare said, patting James on the shoulder. "Ya loin fast."  
  
"Thanks," James replied, grinning back. He had actually enjoyed selling with her today. He dug out the money he'd made with the papers & offered it to her. She pushed his hand away.  
  
"Keep it," she said. "Ya earned it."  
  
"But dose were yer papes," he argued. Flare just held up a hand.  
  
"Considah it a gift," she replied. James reluctantly pocketed the change & Flare turned to look the other way. "Now we just gotta wait fer Mush. Gawd he's slow."  
  
"Dat's the othah guy, right? I mean, the one dat was heah earlier?"  
  
"Yeah." Flare nodded, craning her neck to see better.  
  
"So, uh, are you two, like." James trailed off & Flare laughed a little.  
  
"Yeah," she replied, turning to face him again. "Dat would be right." Suddenly, she waved at someone. James turned to see the curly- haired kid from earlier walking towards them. As he got closer, James noticed a bruise on Mush's cheek & shuddered a little. Flare noticed the bruise too & her face broke out into a wide grin.  
  
"Wheah the hell did dat come from?" she exclaimed with barely- contained laughter.  
  
"Some guy," he replied, grinning back. "Found out yer corpse story wasn't exactly what he thought it was." Mush shrugged. "Didn't like dat so much, apparently."  
  
"Didn't ya get out aftah you sold the pape?"  
  
"Tried to. Guess I wasn't fast enough." Mush grinned again & Flare threw back her head & laughed delightedly.  
  
"Guess not," she agreed.  
  
Mush finally noticed James standing next to Flare, trying not to look awkward, & he gestured to him.  
  
"Who's dat?" he asked Flare. Flare made a face back at him.  
  
"Ask him yerself," she replied. "He ain't deaf." Mush looked expectantly at James, who remained mute. Mush looked back to Flare.  
  
"Help," he said. Flare looked at James & they shrugged.  
  
"He ain't told me nothin'," she said at last. "I don't even know his name, I've been callin' him 'kid' all mornin'."  
  
"Well what's yer name then?" Mush asked. "Unless ya like bein' called 'Kid'."  
  
"No," James interrupted quickly. "No. The name's..ah.it's Blink." He stood up a little straighter, liking the way it sounded. "Blink."  
  
"Hey, dat's not bad," Mush replied. "Did ya just make that up?" james ducked his head a little & Mush laughed.  
  
"Just kiddin'," he assured him. "Well, my name's Mush."  
  
"He knows," Flare piped up. Mush looked at her in mild surprise & she shrugged. "I told him." Mush nodded.  
  
"An' I'm guessin' ya know Flare," he continued. "She give ya a demonstration about why we call her dat?"  
  
"Oh yeah," James confirmed. "I think I'll be rememberin' dat one fer a while!"  
  
"Yeah, she's got a good punch on her," he agreed. "Fer a goil," he added, a devilish grin on his face. Flare glared at him.  
  
"Ya want anothah bruise ta match dat side of yer face?" she threatened. James grinned as they continued to bicker. He could tell they were only kidding, & he found it sort of amusing. He liked being around the two of them. There was a comfortable sort of atmosphere between them; you could tell they were pretty close. It was weird, but he almost felt like he belonged. A part of him hoped they wouldn't go dance out of his life as quickly as they had come in.  
  
"So whaddya say, Flare?" Mush asked her. "Up fer Tibby's?"  
  
"Nah," Flare replied. "I gotta go get Kid Blink signed inta the lodgin' house."  
  
"Blink," he corrected.  
  
"Kid Blink," Flare repeated. "Just go with it." She motioned with her head in another direction. "C'mon, let's go." She kissed Mush quickly, almost shyly, then grabbed James's arm & hauled him off in the direction she'd motioned to.  
  
"See ya," Mush called after them. Flare grinned to herself & James smiled knowingly. Flare raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What?" she asked. James only laughed.  
  
"Nothin'," he replied. Flare cast him a sideways look but said nothing. As they kept walking James noticed how fast Flare was going.  
  
"Hey, slow down!" he exclaimed. "It ain't a race!"  
  
"An' it ain't my fault if ya can't keep up," she shot back. James made a face.  
  
"Do ya always walk dis fast?"  
  
"Don' really notice." Flare glanced at him again & reluctantly slowed her pace a little.  
  
"So, uh, how long have you an' Mush been togethah?" James asked, trying to make conversation.  
  
"Well, I've known him fer 2 years, I think, an' we've been togethah fer about.6 months, give or take." James looked at her in surprise.  
  
"Dat long?"  
  
"Yep," Flare nodded. "We got tagethah after this whole thing." She trailed off before waving a hand over her head. "Anyways, yeah, dat long."  
  
They finally reached the steps of the lodging house. James looked up at the building, with its rows of windows going up several floors. 'Dis is it,' he thought to himself. 'Dis is my new life.'  
  
"Hey, Kid Blink!" Flare called, already up the stairs. "Ya comin' up or do ya wanna stare at the sky a little longer?"  
  
"Hold yer horses, I'm on my way," James replied, grinning. He walked up the stairs towards her, instantly looking forward to whatever lay in front of him. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Been a while since I put one of these up.are they necessary in every chapter? *shrug* Oh well, here goes.don't own 'em, never will. Flare is mine, always will be, and no one else can have her. *wipes forehead* That was fun.  
  
1 Chapter 6  
  
James pulled the door open for Flare as they walked into the lodging house.  
  
"How polite," Flare joked. "Thanks."  
  
"So how long ya been heah?" James asked her.  
  
"Umm, I think 2 years, but-" she frowned, "-I don't rally keep track." They walked up to the front desk & Flare looked around.  
  
"Hey Kloppman!" she yelled. An old man wearing a pair of glasses & holding a cane came rushing into the room. Flare grinned.  
  
"Got a new one," she explained. The old man nodded.  
  
"Name?"  
  
James turned to Flare, unsure over whether or not to give his real name. Would just the nickname be okay? Flare caught on quickly.  
  
"Kid Blink," she answered for him, giving him a wicked grin.  
  
"Blink," he corrected, reddening a little. Kloppman smiled knowingly & pushed a book towards him.  
  
"Maybe you should sign it yourself," he instructed. James nodded & picked up the pen when a sudden thought struck Flare. She nudged him a little.  
  
"Ya know how ta write, don't ya?" she whispered. James looked at her in surprise.  
  
"Yeah," he answered, sounding a little offended. Flare winced inwardly; she hadn't meant it that way. James quickly signed his name in & pushed the book back towards Kloppman. The old man looked at the signature & back up at James.  
  
"Decided on Kid Blink, eh?" he said.  
  
"What?" James cried, grabbing the book back. Sure enough, there was Kid Blink, written on the little line. He groaned, & Kloppman & Flare laughed.  
  
"Cost for stayin' is 5 cents a night," Kloppman explained. "Ya hafta get your own breakfast an' lunch, but you can eat dinner here. Flare, take him up to the bunkroom." Flare nodded & tapped James's arm, motioning to him to follow her up the stairs. They walked in silence. 'Great,' James thought. 'Now she thinks I'm some idiot who can't even spell my own name.'  
  
"Dis way," Flare said, interrupting his thoughts. She pushed open a door that led to a room filled with bunks. To the side was a washroom that contained several sinks, a couple showers, several stalls, & a water pump with a tin tub sitting next to it.  
  
"Let's see," Flare muttered to herself. She was standing near the door, scanning her eyes over the bunks, arms folded across her chest. She stood like this a few seconds before walking over to one of the bunks.  
  
"Dis one is empty," she said, motioning to the top bunk. "Ya can sleep heah." Nodding, James walked over & painfully pulled himself op onto the bunk.  
  
"Need some help?" Flare inquired, noticing when he winced. He shook his head firmly & pulled himself into a cross-legged position. Flare crossed her arms on the mattress & leaned her chin down. Finally, she spoke up.  
  
"Why're ya mad?"  
  
"I ain't," James replied, caught a little off-guard.  
  
"Yeah, ya are," Flare stated matter-of-factly. "It's written all over yer face." They stared at each other for a few seconds before James answered her question.  
  
"Why'd ya ask me if I could write?"  
  
"Just makin' sure," Flare responded with a shrug.  
  
"Did ya think I was dat dumb?"  
  
"I got asked the same thing. Everyone does, 'cause there are some kids who nevah loined. It ain't just you." She started to walk away.  
  
"Where ya goin'?" James asked her. She looked at him over her shoulder.  
  
"My bunk," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She crossed the room & climbed onto one of the top bunks, leaning back. She tossed her cap aside & folded her arms behind her head, closing her eyes & yawning. James chuckled & Flare opened one eye again to look at him.  
  
"Ain't had much time ta just relax," she explained. "Dis place is usually crowded as hell, an' twice as noisy. Kinda nice now dat's it's quiet." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don't got a cap, do ya?"  
  
"Nope," James answered. "Why?" Flare shook her head & closed her eyes, yawning again.  
  
"Just curious," she replied. She sighed to herself, enjoying the rare afternoon of peace. After a day of selling, she usually went to Tibby's for lunch with the rest of the group. After that, the day was hers. Some days she'd go down to the racetracks, sometimes she'd spend the afternoon just sitting on the front steps or the roof with a bunch of the guys, and sometimes she'd walk around with Mush. Occasionally, when it was hot, she'd go down to Brooklyn to go swimming, but she & Spot didn't get along at all, & such instances were rare. She never went down by herself; last time she tried that Spot had some of his friends run her out. Usually she wouldn't suffer the humiliation of running away, but it would have been hard to fight off 5 or 6 guys who outweighed her by about 100 pounds each. In any case, she rarely had an afternoon to herself.  
  
'Well,' she reminded herself, 'I ain't really alone.' She lifted her head a little to look at James. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't see his face from her position, but it seemed apparent he was thinking about something. She frowned & closed her eyes again. 'What was he hiding?' she wondered. The door banging open interrupted her thoughts.  
  
James jumped at the sound of the door, his nerves immediately set on edge. He relaxed a little when a short, Italian-looking kid sauntered in, hand at his temple. Flare looked over lazily & rolled her eyes.  
  
"What the hell are ya doin' back?" she said accusingly. The other guy snorted & threw his cap at Flare. She grinned & threw it back.  
  
"Thanks fer the warm welcome," he replied, "an' I heah 'cause I ain't feelin' so good." He walked over & lay down on the bunk underneath James, not noticing the boy above him. Flare rolled onto her stomach & turned to face him.  
  
"What're ya doin' back so soon?" the other kid asked Flare.  
  
"Had ta help sign the new kid in."  
  
"What new kid?"  
  
Flare pointed upward & James grinned. The other kid frowned but got off his bunk slowly. He jumped back a little when he saw James sitting there.  
  
"Da name's Race," he introduced after getting over the initial surprise.  
  
"Blink," James replied, reaching out to shake hands.  
  
"Kid Blink!" Flare called out. Racetrack put a hand to his temple.  
  
"Jeez, Flare," he groaned, "I got a headache!" He lay back down on his bunk w/his cap over his eyes. Flare just grinned again.  
  
"So how'd you two meet?" Race asked from underneath his cap. James shrugged.  
  
"Had a little trouble, Flare helped me out."  
  
"He had a run-in with the Delancey bastards," Flare offered.  
  
"So what'd ya do Flare?" Race peeked out from underneath his cap.  
  
"Rearranged their faces a little bit," Flare replied. Race laughed.  
  
"'Atta goil!" he said, cracking a smile. "Guess I taught ya pretty good."  
  
"It's natural," Flare claimed, flexing a muscle jokingly. "I coulda taken dem out blindfolded wi-"  
  
"With an arm an' a leg tied behind yer back," Race finished. "I know. I hoid it a thousand times."  
  
"Yeah, well, it ain't my yer little sister kicks ass bettah than ya."  
  
"Wait a second," James interrupted. "Sister?" Race & Flare looked at each other & shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, sister," Flare confirmed. "Race is older-but he's shorter."  
  
"Put a sock in it," Race muttered before retreating back under his cap. Flare just grinned & continued talking.  
  
"Race had been heah a couple years before me; he ran away when we were kids. One day I just decided ta try an' find him, an' we ran inta each othah in the street. He brought me heah, an' the rest is history."  
  
"My head hurts," Race complained.  
  
"I can fix dat," Flare said.  
  
"How?" Race moved his cap off his face. Flare jumped off of her bunk, strode over to Race, & punched him in the shoulder.  
  
"Now yer arm hurts," she replied. "Concentrate on dat." She snickered & dodged the fist Race threw in her direction.  
  
"You should be a doctah," James joked. "People'd be runnin' to ya fer help."  
  
"Sure dey would," Flare said w/a laugh. "An' I'm the mayah's daughtah."  
  
"Trust me, ya ain't," Race commented. Flare glared at him & kicked the bunk. Race turned onto his stomach & buried his head under his pillow.  
  
"Damn you," he muttered. Flare just laughed & walked back to her bunk, climbing up onto it.  
  
"What're ya doin'?" James asked her.  
  
"Getting' some sleep while I still can," she replied. "You should probably do the same."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Early mornin's." She gestured to Race, who had dozed off. "See, he's got the right idea." She yawned. "Well, if yer not gonna sleep, don't wander too far, 'cause I ain't gonna come lookin' fer ya." James looked a little stricken & she laughed. "Just kiddin'." She yawned again. "Well, g'night."  
  
"Good afternoon," James corrected.  
  
"Whatevah."  
  
Within a few minutes, Flare was out. Faced with the sudden quiet, James leaned back, casting a look at his surroundings. The bunkroom was simple- rows of metal bunks with striped sheets & a blanket on each bed. James ran over the day's events in his head as he looked around. He figured that everything had gone alright. Well, with the exception of the alley, but he thought even that wasn't that bad. He had caught Flare's attention, after all, & that had given him a job & a place to live, all at once. He quietly got off his bunk, as not to wake Race, & walked over to the window. He gazed out over the city streets, finally feeling free. Free from his old life & the old man who had filled it with torment. He looked down at his shoes, swallowing hard. There was a nagging feeling, tugging at the back of his mind. He felt like, even though a new chapter in his life had begun, the last one wasn't quite finished yet. The biggest question was, how would that effect the story? 


End file.
